


In Your Orbit

by LoveCrumb



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alex has too many feelings, Canon Compliant, Feels, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Finale, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Zeb is the hero we need but don't deserve, kalluzeb - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 12:32:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14284992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveCrumb/pseuds/LoveCrumb
Summary: After wanting to touch Zeb for so long, Alex reaches up and runs his hands down Zeb’s wide chest. The fur there, like much of his body, is short and thick; it feels velvety as Alex strokes downward, and more textured and coarse on the upstroke.He feels in the thrall of an arousal quite unlike anything he’s ever felt before, and yet something premonitory bleats a warning at the back of his mind. He pushes the thought aside as Zeb’s hand wanders further down, resting low on his stomach, waiting for more skin to be revealed.It is so easy for Alex to arch his back off the bed and do just that.





	In Your Orbit

**Author's Note:**

> A bantha-sized thank you to [akaparalian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaparalian) who beta'd through my terrible punctuation and who was the ultimate cheerleader, I would never have posted this story without you. <3  
> If you're in need of more delightful Kalluzeb fanfics, please check out her hilarious fic [Falling in Love with the Right Now (Poster Boy)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14085045) , as well as another gem of a story [The Care and Keeping of Ex-Imperials Who Need a Coffee, a Nap and a Hug in That Order](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14259144).  
> I fell in love with this ship thanks to all the incredible contributions to the fandom from artists on tumblr, so this fic was ultimately inspired by all of their gorgeous artwork. I hope to contribute more to the fandom in the future! Please see the end notes for links to the particular tumblr's who inspired me the most.

 

Zeb’s pronounced Lasat scent fills the elevator cab. It is not unpleasant to Alex; in fact, in Zeb’s fourteen month-long absence, he has grown to sorely miss his friend’s distinct physical and olfactory presence. Yet Zeb’s usual odour is now tinged with something sweeter, something muskier, and it makes Alex more acutely aware of how close they’re standing, how small the space is around them. His heart beats an overwhelming rhythm around the words left unsaid between them. He lets out a slow breath, feeling the sweat beading on his upper lip cool. _There is time yet,_ he thinks.

Alex wonders if he is imagining the heat radiating from Zeb’s body.  He is sure that he is not. He has to suppress the shiver that wants to run through his body as the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

And perhaps it isn’t just Zeb’s scent that is having such an effect on him - the Lasat seems to fill the space of the small chamber, as though his very presence has grown in size, and his proud muscles seem to stand out in sharper relief against the harsh light shining down on them.

Before the Liberation of Lothal, he had observed the poor posture of his friend. Alex has been accused of “staring down his nose” at people (mainly by Ezra), and of the few habits left from his Imperial days, he has found it the most difficult to relax the rigidity of his own spine.  Zeb, in contrast, always seemed like he was crouched slightly - perhaps so he could spring to action at a moment's notice, or maybe he subconsciously wanted to fit in with his more vertically-challenged peers, though Alex doubts the latter. Now, Zeb stands straight and tall, the escalating victories of the Rebellion having bolstered him in some new way the previous ones hadn’t. Liberating Lothal had been the turning point the rebellion needed, and now Zeb looks better than good: he looks in his element.

As another wave of Zeb’s scent washes over him, Alex wonders, not for the first time, if Zeb can smell him just as acutely, and he suspects that his own smell could easily give away his concupiscent imagination. He lets out another breath and hurriedly tries to compose himself: he has been overtly staring, teasing his bottom lip with his teeth, and the heat that is not already moving downward now colours his face.

He’s about to look away, but then those large green eyes are staring, hard, into his own.

“Kal.” Zeb’s throaty voice sounds delicious around the nickname he’s been given by the Lasat, and Alex can’t look away. Zeb is looking back at him, with such plain hunger in his eyes that Alex would have to be a fool to miss it. He feels his throat working as he tries to find words, any words will do, but he seems to have been rendered speechless. He can feel sweat pooling in his lower back, and his entire torso feels overheated despite having shed most of his layers just moments before getting on the elevator with Zeb. Despite decades of severe Imperial training reining in such instincts, he feels himself getting hard.

The air around them feels electric, as though one spark could set off a chain reaction, and as if summoned by the tension forming between them, the light above them flickers and goes out; the elevator stalls, then stops. Without the sound of the machine working around them, Alex can hear his own breathing, and something like a muted vibrating hum coming from Zeb. He has only one more breath to wonder at what he’s hearing, when the power is back on and the light flickers back to life. A flashing key indicates that they have to press a button to start the elevator again, but neither of them does. Instead they stare at each other, and the pressure building between them reaches its apex.

It’s Zeb who breaks first, and he pushes Alex against the wall of the elevator, pressing his heated body close, so close. Alex can feel the raw power behind Zeb’s movements, the ripple of muscles even underneath their remaining clothing.

Zeb noses at his neck, breathing deeply. His voice is low, gutteral, _primal._

“Tell me to stop.”

Alex sucks in a breath of air when he realizes he’s been holding his breath. “Don’t,” he gasps. “Don’t you dare stop.”

His hands surge up to wrap around Zeb’s huge shoulders, and he feels something slightly coarse and wet push against his neck, sending a shock of pleasure up his spine. He realizes Zeb is licking him there, tasting him with his substantial tongue. He arches into the Lasat, and Zeb moves his hands down Alex’s body, settling them on his ass before squeezing slightly, his claws digging in to the flesh there. Instinctively, completely without thought, because he already knows that Zeb can support him, Alex does a little jump and wraps his legs around Zeb’s waist. He’s just barely able to hook his ankles around the Lasat’s circumference.

Zeb’s sweet musky scent is growing stronger still, and Alex feels dizzy when he realizes that he must have been smelling Zeb’s arousal. He can feel teeth grazing his neck, which has already grown overly sensitive under the ministrations of Zeb’s agile tongue, and it feels so dangerous, those sharp canines so close to his jugular, but he arches his neck back further, his heart beating a drum into the skin. A deep, low, rumbling vibration makes its way through Zeb’s body and stays there, and he does bite into Alex’s neck just then, a sharp pinch, before his tongue lavishes the skin once again.

“Your - your room, Zeb! Now!” Alex’s hand reaches desperately for the flashing key, and he just barely reaches it. The cab lurches underneath them and resumes its ride up several more floors before they reach the temporary living quarters.

Zeb stumbles, still carrying Alex, into his room and they fall onto the large bunk. Alex’s hands are already clawing at the fastenings of Zeb’s underarmor. Despite his legs still wrapped tightly around Zeb’s waist (and he is uncertain if he will ever be able to let go), the Lasat effortlessly pushes them both up the bed with his prehensile feet, and they both grunt with the feeling that the friction causes. Zeb’s vest is finally off and he is fumbling with the concealed zip on the side of Alex’s shirt. He huffs, “Made for tiny hands, stupid kriffing-”

Alex bats his hands away and unzips it himself, his sense of urgency deepening. He lifts his arms over his head and Zeb takes both layers off in one go. They pause to look at one another.

Alex has seen the Lasat topless a few times before. On more than one occasion, he has let his eyes wander along the stripes arching across Zeb’s back, wrapping around in a convex to his front, just shy of meeting, making an appealing ‘V’ as though to point Alex in the right direction. But he realizes it is the first time he has been so undressed in front of Zeb, and the Lasat looks down at him, his eyes wide with astonishment.

“You have fur.” One of Zeb’s huge hands, with its sensitive pads, runs over Alex’s chest, feeling the softness of the ample red hair that covers him there. “A lot of it.”

After wanting to touch Zeb for so long, Alex reaches up and runs his own hands down Zeb’s wide chest. The fur there, like much of his body, is short and thick; it feels velvety as Alex strokes downward, and more textured and coarse on the upstroke. He feels in the thrall of an arousal quite unlike anything he’s ever felt before, and yet something premonitory bleats a warning at the back of his mind. He pushes the thought aside as Zeb’s hand wanders further down, resting low on his stomach, waiting for more skin to be revealed.

It is so easy for Alex to arch his back off the bed and do just that. He hooks his fingers into the waist of his pants, inching them down, revealing himself to Zeb’s intense gaze. He is entranced by the desire in Zeb’s eyes, and he wants Zeb to see all of him, to see how much he wants him. He pushes his pants down as far as he can reach with Zeb still resting between his legs. He shivers at the feeling of cool air against his burning erection.

Zeb continues to stare wide-eyed down his body, examining his erection, looking his fill and back up into his eyes. The soft, deep vibrating growl that has been going consistently has grown louder. Alex can feel goosebumps erupt over his body with Zeb’s approved scrutiny.

Alex swallows, can feel his adam’s apple bob as he tries to speak through the heady feeling that is warping his thinking. His neck is still arched back and he stares down his eyelashes at the Lasat. “I want you, Zeb.”

Zeb’s eyes grow wider still. “Karabast.” His voice, which is already so gravelly and gruff, is now reduced to a mere rumble.

Zeb pushes up from the bed, shucks off his own pants, then he hooks his hands around Alex’s, which are still hovering so indecently around his thighs, and strips those off too before throwing them over his shoulder.

Alex’s eyes travel down Zeb’s body. He loves the size of him, how broad he is, and how lean his hips are, and his eyes meet an impressive erection. Zeb’s is a deep purplish-grey colour, growing darker at the tip. It is a smooth curved shape, with a slightly bulbous head, and the length is veiny and thick. A clear drop of liquid is hovering at the tip. It’s a good size, mercifully smaller than Alex thought it might be, but still well above average in terms of human-size. He’s surprised to notice that Zeb has very little fur covering his pubic area. With such a proud beard, he imagined the lasat would be positively hairy all over, but it seems the opposite is true.

Alex licks his lips and impresses himself with the miniscule degree of foresight and self-preservation he has left,  “Do you have lubricant?”

Zeb, who still looks a bit dazed, asks “What for?”

Alex feels his stomach twist slightly in anxiety, “Do Lasat use lubricant during-?”

Zeb’s eyes widen, “No, we don’t need to. I...I think I understand, though.” Zeb shifts over him and opens the panel inset into the bunk frame. Alex can hear him rummaging through his meagre supplies. Zeb moves back over him, procuring a small jar.

“Will this work?”

Alex pulls it, and Zeb’s hand, closer so he can read the bottle. It’s some sort of unmedicated balm for chapped skin - the ingredients seem harmless enough, mostly oil. He takes the jar and pulls off the lid, rubbing the substance between his fingers and giving it a sniff; it has no scent.

“We shall see.” Lacking any subtlety or modesty, he moves his oiled hand down between his legs and fingers his entrance, which gives way almost immediately under two digits.

“Kriffing hell, Kal,” Zeb says, his voice hushed, taking in the sight before him.

Alex bites his lip against the burn when he hastily adds a third finger. He’s never so quick with himself, but he knows what his body can handle, and the only clear thought in his mind is how much he needs this, needs Zeb. He feels laid bare by Zeb’s gaze. He needs Zeb to understand how much he wants this, and so he shows him. He buries his fingers as deep as he can reach and begins to scissor them. He has to squeeze his eyes shut against the feeling of Zeb’s heated gaze, the feeling of his own fingers pushing his body to its limit.  The siren wailing distantly in the back of his mind is growing louder and it seems to punctuate his movements. He distracts himself by brushing his middle finger against his prostate, and a pulse of electric pleasure shoots through him, effectively silencing the noise in his mind. He fails to muffle the gasp that escapes when he feels Zeb’s calloused finger-pads brush gently against the sensitized skin around his entrance, and suddenly Alex feels far too close. He has to wrap his other hand around the base of his shaft, squeezing tightly to will off his orgasm.

He opens his eyes to look for the jar of balm and he coats his palm with it before hovering over Zeb’s erection, “May I?”

Zeb seems lost for words, his mouth slightly agape. He manages to snap his mouth shut and nod his head. Alex grips Zeb’s length- it’s even hotter to the touch than his own- and he hastily lubricates the shaft. Zeb groans and bucks into his fist, an impressive dribble of clear liquid pouring from the tip. For a fleeting, worried moment, Alex wonders if that’s it for Zeb, but then Zeb stills his hand with his own.

“Trust me,” he pants, “that’s more than enough.”

Alex watches as more liquid oozes from Zeb’s erection and he begins to understand why Lasat may not need extra lubrication. He is so dizzy with want, so overcome by the scent coming off of Zeb, and he hooks his legs firmly around Zeb’s waste, pulling him in even closer.

“Zeb,” Alex runs his fingers up Zeb’s torso, burying his fingers into the fur there, “Please. Fuck me.”

Alex tries to ignore the flash of concern he sees in Zeb’s eyes. “Are you sure you’re-”

Alex cuts him off, “ _Yes,_ Zeb. Please.” He feels desperate for him, too desperate. He reaches down and takes Zeb’s length in his hand once again and lines him up to his own entrance, digging the heels of his feet into Zeb’s back. _Faster,_ he thinks. _It’s taking too long._

He has to clench his eyes shut against the incredible burn of Zeb entering him. He knows he’s shaking. He can’t focus on any one thought, his mind is racing, and he sucks in a breath of air, holding it in his lungs.

Quite suddenly, the pressure is gone, and Zeb slips out of him.

Alex’s voice comes out at a pitch he’s never heard on himself, a breathy whine: “What- no!” His eyes still clenched shut, he reaches urgently for Zeb. _Don’t leave me here._

He feels a hand come to rest against his cheek and Zeb says softly, “I won’t hurt you, Alex.”

The use of his real name has him open his eyes. He stares up at Zeb and something deep inside of him shatters. The look Zeb is giving him is one Alex can’t fathom: it speaks of something more than desire, more than the flame burning between them, but of something infinitely more tender.  Zeb is looking at Alex like he is something to be cherished.

He is unaware of the tear that escapes his eye until Zeb brushes it away. This, whatever this is that has been building between them, was never a thing of desperation. He can feel the discordant emotions, the ones that have been waging a war inside of him ever since Zeb left for his extended assignment last year, soften their grip on his perception.

In that moment, much like the last time he was given such a meaningful look from Zeb on that icy moon of Geonosis, he feels the trajectory of his life shifting. 

Alex reaches for Zeb, framing his face with his hands, unable to stop the tears now flowing freely down his own face. His voice is barely a whisper, “I know."

 

* * *

 

_Many Moons Later_

 

Zeb is settled firmly in his favourite position between Alex’s legs, his eyes closed languidly as adept fingers comb through his beard and scratch under his jaw. When those fingers stall, Zeb opens one beady eye, his ears flick with annoyance, and he gives Alex a look as if to say “who told you to stop?”

Alex doesn’t try to stifle the laugh that wells up inside of him and bursts through his chest. “Such a grumpy Loth-cat!” He can’t resist teasing Zeb.  

“Oy!” Zeb hoists himself up on the bed, framing Alex between his thick forearms. He bares his teeth, “I’ll have you know that this Loth-cat bites.”

Alex grins, “Yes, I know just how big and tough you are.” He cards his fingers through Zeb’s beard and holds his face, examining him. Zeb’s beard has grown much thicker and wilder in recent years, and grey hairs have begun to make an appearance around the base of his jaw. A small scar paints a thin line across his right temple. Alex inhales and remembers a time when Zeb’s scent was novel, just as much as the rest of his body was; now, it simply speaks of comfort, warmth, and home. Despite his laughter only a moment ago, he feels his stomach give an anxious lurch and the moment becomes serious once again.

Still holding Zeb’s face between his hands, he scans the Lasat’s eyes. Zeb looks back at him, the same worry reflected in his gaze, and says, “You know I have to go, Kal.”

“I - yes.” Alex’s first instinct is to look away, but he doesn’t. His second instinct is to protest, but he doesn’t do that either. Instead he curls his fingers more deeply around the wild hair framing Zeb’s face and gives him a little shake. Memories of Hoth and the Echo Base have been at the forefront of his mind. They had both escaped with their lives, but only just. He understands why Zeb must go, though he does not have the clearance to know what Zeb’s mission is, or will be. In only a few hours, Zeb will be leaving for the Outer Rim to the Endor System, and Alex suspects that the stakes have never been higher for the Rebellion. He is glad that Zeb will be there, he knows first-hand how indispensable the Lasat is. Yet, knowing these things, it does not make his heart ache any less to let Zeb go. 

“Just -” he takes a breath, centering himself, “-make sure you come back home,” _to me,_ his mind adds, unnecessarily.

Alex pushes himself back into the cushions, staring at the ceiling, his hands still fiddling with Zeb’s facial hair. He wonders if he is allowed to demand something so impossible to promise when they live in such uncertainty. He wonders, for the millionth time, if their newfound home on Lothal will outlast the Empire. 

“Alex.” Zeb says his name so softly, and it makes something in his stomach flutter in anticipation. He looks down, his eyes meeting Zeb’s. There’s a look in Zeb’s eyes and Alex can feel the pull of it, understands immediately the gravity of the next words out of Zeb’s mouth. Zeb’s voice is still so soft when he asks: “What if home for us isn’t here on Lothal?”  

Alex stays silent but he can’t help but smile as his mind supplements: _home is wherever you are._

Zeb’s eyes are burning with promise, “After, and there will be an after, there’s somewhere I want to take you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by all the feels I felt looking at [Iz3sidebloog](https://lz3sidebloog.tumblr.com/) , [iamthespacecadet](http://iamthespacecadet.tumblr.com) and [tench](http://tench.tumblr.com/) 's Kalluzeb work on tumblr.  
> This [drawing](http://tench.tumblr.com/post/142195276348/ah-he-loves-that-smile) by Tench, in particular, was the inspiration for the final scene.


End file.
